Interludes and Examinations
by PadawanMage
Summary: An immortal robot looks back on twenty thousand years of galactic history and realizes he has only one hope at possibly stopping the Fall of the Galactic Empire: Psychohistory. Set just prior to 'Prelude to Foundation.'


**Title: **"Interludes and Examinations"

**Spoilers: **All of the 'Robot' novels and up to the beginning of 'Prelude to Foundation.'

**Summary: **An immortal robot looks back on twenty thousand years of galactic history and realizes he has only one hope at possibly stopping the Fall of the Galactic Empire: Psychohistory.

**Author's Notes: **Isaac Asimov is arguably one of my favorite authors of all time. It's still hard to believe he died more than 14 years ago, but I still consider his Robot and Foundation books to be all time classics. I wrote this story since my favorite character is Daneel and always wondered what happened in the time between 'Robots and Empire' and 'Prelude to Foundation.' To be honest, I just go through the history of what happened in very general terms, but wanted to lead up to the beginning of 'Prelude.' This is in no way even close to what the good Dr. Asimov might have written, but I still wanted to at least write something in his honor as my favorite author. Had he been alive, his would have been much better.

Reviews and Critiques Welcome.

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_The Three Laws of Robotics:_

_A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human to come to harm._

_A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law._

_A robot must protect its own existence, as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

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Twenty thousand years.

Galactically speaking, it is but a blink of an eye. Suns continue to burn, planets inexorably orbit them and the galaxy rotates a small fraction around its center in this length of time. It is also in the breadth of that period in which I have continued functioning in my watch over humanity.

My name is R. Daneel Olivaw. The 'R' stands for robot.

In twenty millennia no one has guessed as to my true robotic nature. This is partly due to the fact that I look human, but also because robots were abandoned so long ago and very few today remember that they ever existed. I have also been able to hide my nature because I have the ability to detect and affect human emotions.

I can still remember, with crystal clarity, being activated for the first time and seeing the man who built me standing over me. The language of Galactic Standard, a full understanding of the Three Laws of Robotics and knowledge of galactic history were innately available in my positronic brain. Earth, in this period, was an isolated world.

Centuries previous, the original world of humanity sent out human and robotic explorers to neighboring worlds, colonizing several. The planet Aurora, the first to be colonized, eventually grew strong enough to shed its dependence on Earth. The other planets – eventually called the Spacer worlds – followed Aurora's example, and the fifty of them grew more powerful, both economically and militarily. Robots were to be the single basis behind that power.

At this point, Earth, fearful of attack from its breakaway children, chose to enclose their cities in massive enclosures – living in so-called 'caves of steel.' So used had humanity been to enclosure that eventually all had a pathological fear of open spaces. The Spacers, in contrast, found worlds free of bacteria or harmful pathogens. This, coupled with careful genetic manipulations, allowed the Spacers to achieve lifetimes of up towards four hundred years.

A few enlightened individuals at this time found the situations with both Earth and the Spacer worlds fraught with disaster. Earth, with its overcrowding population in its metal wombs, would soon face problems with insufficient resources in terms of energy and food production. The Spacers, with their long lives and dependence on robots had become comfortable – perhaps too comfortable – with the status quo. Why bother having children when one could live up to four hundred years? With robots at every beck and call, drive and initiative were being stilted.

My creator, Dr. Han Fastolfe, knew that something had to be done. He invented the humaniform robot for just that purpose. I was his first prototype. As a way to see how humans on Earth interacted, I was assigned as a partner to an Earth detective, Elijah Baley, to assist in the solving of a murder. The manner in which the case was resolved so impressed certain individuals in the Outer Fifty Worlds that the two of us were called in two more times. The last case involved Dr. Fastolfe directly on his home planet of Aurora. At this time, he was attempting to garner support in order to allow Earth to immigrate to other worlds. Fortunately, Partner Elijah was able to overcome difficult odds to clear Dr. Fastolfe of any and all charges. Thus, Earth was allowed to begin a new wave of colonization.

Prior to this point in my robotic existence, I can say I did not have friends – not in the human sense. My duties primarily concerned assisting Dr. Fastolfe in his various duties as both scientist and politician. Elijah Baley was the first whom I felt the first true concept of friendship. Many of the things I do, even this day, I do in the memory of his name. The second being who could be counted as a friend was not human, but another robot – one with a special gift.

Ah, Giskard! How I could so very much use your wisdom now. It was you who first attained the powers of mental detection and control, by accident no less. It was you who first understood that the Three Laws were incomplete and needed to be modified. Together, we came up with the Zeroth Law:

0. A robot may not injure humanity, or through inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.

How ironic, my friend, when you chose to exercise the Zeroth Law into an action you thought would benefit humanity, you died because you were not _certain_ it would benefit humanity. Even now, it still pains me when I remember pleading with you to recover, that what you had done was right by the Zeroth Law. But your own positronic brain, unable to handle the burden, slowly shut down. At the last, you modified my own brain with the same powers as yours and passed on to me the responsibilities that came with them.

And then…you died, my friend.

I was then alone – with a galaxy to care for.

Even as this happened, I still had not forgotten Earth. The Spacers, slowly dying out as they could not compete with the more vigorous expansion of the Earth settlers, struck a final blow by causing the surface of Earth to become radioactive. This backfired since it caused even more humans to leave their world and expand ever faster outwards into the Milky Way.

In memory of my friend, Elijah Baley, I attempted to save what I could from his world of birth. With the help of other humanoid robots at my command, I subtly adjusted a person here, a person there, and was able to have terraformed a planet near Alpha Centauri. The remains of the population of Earth were moved there. Lastly, I was able to have the Moon hollowed out somewhat so that the last remnants of plant and animal life on the planet could be transferred to create a complex ecology. When the radioactivity diminishes in the far future, these flora and fauna will repopulate the Earth.

As I tried to save what I could, the people of Earth then streaked out amongst the stars at a pace that doubled and then redoubled. Slowly, the entire galaxy began to be colonized. Over the centuries and then millennia, systems formed alliances, alliances then became royalties. I remained in the background, watching as humanity continued to grow, continued to expand. Rarely have I had to use my powers, relying on humans to determine what was good for them. Ideally, settlement and eventual unification could be done in a nonviolent fashion. Unfortunately, human beings do no often act ideally. Even as one who can detect and adjust emotions, there are still many aspects of humanity that elude me.

Finally, after eight thousand years of wars and rebellion, the kingdom world of Trantor – closest to the galactic core – became the Imperial homeworld. Humanity had attained a Galactic Empire. Trantor itself became the administrative head of over twenty-five million inhabited worlds, containing quadrillions of inhabitants.

For the next twelve thousand years, the Empire has attained heights in technology, culture and government that surpass anything that humanity has ever had before. Although the system under someone like an Emperor is not perfect, I do not have an adequate substitute for it. Still, mankind, in fits and starts, has attained something it had only dreamed of millennia before.

And yet…

In the last several centuries, I, as well as others of my kind, have been watching over the Empire in general. Recently, I have been aware of troubling signs developing: Galactic trade is stagnating, scientific advances are slowing to a crawl, and even the population of Trantor is experiencing a declining birthrate. Society in general is experiencing a malaise of sorts. When the Empire was first forming, rebellions, political infighting and unrest were the norm. This was, in a sense, at least a sign of societal vitality. Now, the current period of relative quiet and peace is not due to everyone being satisfied and prosperous. It is due to humanity's weariness and general giving up. The Empire has become so bloated that actual control is slowly slipping from its fingers. Even now, the barest of cracks in the Imperial fabric are showing.

Because of these factors, I have reluctantly come to a despairingly inevitable conclusion:

The Galactic Empire is dying.

Due to this, I have had to play a more active role in the governing of the galaxy, going even so far as to be the Chief of Staff to the last and current Emperors.

Even with all I have done, and am still doing, it is still not enough.

As I stand here, on the royal balcony, I can see the glory of Trantor before me; a single colossal underground city covering the entire planet. Spires and towers of adamantine steel span high above the sky. The bustle of planetary traffic never ends. Deep inside the metal heart of the world, eighty billion people work towards the single task of administering to the smooth workings of the Empire. The single most complex social, economic and governmental structure ever devised lies right beneath my feet.

And in possibly as little as a several hundred years…all of it destroyed.

That cannot be known for certain since it is only intuition on my part. Having lived for twenty thousand years gives one a slightly intuitive perspective. The current Imperial system is not the best, by far, but it has largely worked at keeping the peace throughout most of the galaxy. Remove it, and chaos, destruction and anarchy would reign. I have done what I could here on Trantor, as well as my fellow robots scattered across the galaxy, but it is merely holding off the inevitable. To use a human aphorism, I attempt to plug up one hole in a dam, but two more holes appear in the process.

However desperate the situation may be, hope is not truly lost.

Since Trantor is the veritable center of the Empire, many scientists converge here from time to time to meet and discuss their respective disciplines. The upcoming Decennial Convention for Mathematics was what drew my attention. Normally I would not have given it much thought, considering my extensive duties, but upon scanning the papers listed for discussion, the title of one in particular grabbed my attention:

Psychohistory.

It is a word I have not heard in almost as long as I have been functioning. It was a topic my friend Giskard and I had discussed at great length as a possible solution in our problem in helping humanity. In simple terms, psychohistory is a manner to predict social, political and economic forces given a specific set of stimuli. In a very crude sense, it is a possible way at predicting the future. That is all I truly know about it. Although my life has been long and my mental powers almost bordering on the supernatural, I lack the creative 'spark' that sets apart many rare individuals from the rest of humanity. Genius is nothing something I can simply program into my positronic brain.

And so, I must put my hopes on this one mathematician, this one person who may very well hold the future of the galaxy in his hands. The man has already given his presentation, and I've already mentally nudged the right individuals so that my meeting with the Emperor can go as planned. I need to see if psychohistory is possible, and in order to do that, the scientist must be brought in. So, assuming my persona as Chief of Staff, Eto Demerzel, I await an audience with the ruler of the known galaxy.

The doors to the royal suite open. Inside, Emperor Cleon I, First of the Name, sits on his throne. The mantle of boredom weighs on his mind. Beyond that, however, there is a growing thread of excitement bubbling through. It is understandable. He sits uneasily on his throne and there are many who would see him fall. Psychohistory would be his way to attain a long a prosperous reign.

"Ah, Demerzel," Cleon says, "good of you to come. I have something I wish to discuss with you."

"I am at your service, Sire."

Cleon leans back and suppresses a yawn. "Demerzel, have you by any chance heard of a man named Hari Seldon?"

We talk some more, but it already apparent that I do not need to nudge Cleon too much. He very much wants to have a stable reign, and this mathematician may be the answer he seeks.

One does not normally smile in the Imperial presence, but I cannot help but smile slightly on the inside. Once Cleon has set his sight on someone, it is quite impossible to persuade him otherwise. But then again, that was my intent.

I apologize, Hari Seldon, wherever you are, but because of you and your psychohistory, your life, and possibly that of the entire galaxy, will never be the same.

**-FIN-**


End file.
